Tom Snowt, the tinker.

Snowt. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisby's father; Snug the
joiner, you the Lion's part; I hope there is a play fitted.

Snug. Have you the Lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it
me, for I am slow of study.

Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.

Bot. Let me play the Lion too, I will roar, that I will do any man's
heart good to hear me. I will roar, that I will make the Duke say, let
him roar again, let him roar again!

Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the
Dutchess and the Ladies, that they would shriek, and that were enough
to hang us all.

All. That would hang us every mother's son.

Bot. I grant you, friends, if you should fright the Ladies out of
their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us; but
I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any
sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.

Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus is a sweet fac'd
man, a proper man as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely
gentleman-like man: therefore you must needs play Pyramus.